Claim of Shadows
by Dorkme
Summary: AU. An ancient brotherhood is left in shambles, leaving a single man to uphold their binding vows. He is forced to change Harry Potter's life forever..leading the young and very powerful wizard on a path completely different than was previously planned.
1. Prologue

A/N:

Wow, I've been absent from here for forever. I'm terribly sorry, but I've been so busy, not with school or anything, but with my life. Emotionally, I've been a mess, and I've changed a lot. I think I've grown up...but I'm still young and learning. I'm going to try to keep up with my stories. Secret Promise isn't going to be my main priority but it's going to be paid much attention, soon enough.

This is something I started planning for over a year ago, but didn't get to writing until late December. It started off slow, but I've got a few chapters. I won't post another until I've finished the next three.

Read and Review and tell me if you want me to continue or not :) .

* * *

**Claim of Shadows**  
PROLOGUE: 

"May God have mercy on your souls."

The circle of men lifted their bowed heads to gaze at the man who had spoken such faithful and yet damnable words. The shimmering glow of candles flickered over the face of the only one who did not stand within their ring of power, the one who had interrupted their sacred silence. His dark eyes glittered beneath the shroud of his black hood as he watched them steadily. Long arms rested at his sides. The long, strong fingers of his left hand gripped the hilt of a long, dark wand. A lean body stood straight and unmoving as stone, secure feet planted on the floor beneath him. His lips were patiently still as he glanced around at the faces of the men who waited before him. Each of them had each joined this sect, seeking justice for the innocent, as he had so many years ago.

He looked into their eyes and he did not see a desire for justice. He saw a need for revenge dripping from their once fair souls.

There was no power or magic in the world that could save them now. They had forgotten and broken their vow to protect and passed to the point of vengeance. This war had broken them and the loss of one of their own to the darkness had shattered their faith in the gifts they had been given. It was madness, what they planned, and they all knew it.

Insanity had already begun to eat away at their once brilliant minds. He could see it almost as clearly as he could see the hate slithering just beneath the surface of their eyes. They hated him. That part of them, that deep, deep part of their souls that was had been the reason they were chosen to be a part of this brotherhood, hated him for having been able to resist the temptations of revenge.

"What God?" asked a young man, glaring from beneath his dark hood, burning blue eyes standing out amongst a pale face. He was shorter and slenderer than the others, so young when compared to them all. It made his heart sad, knowing what would become of this poor boy, once so bright and eager to heal, rather than destroy. This boy was a child who had not even been given a chance to live. It had always been that way... Sacrifice was the key in their line of work. Whether it was yourself or your fellows, sacrifice was always involved. "I see no God."

He did not reply to the lad's statement. There was not one thing he could say that could convince any of them not to do this. They were eternally lost to him.

"You stand as a traitor, Jairus!" cried another man. It was unpleasant to watch the furious emotions cross over their faces. He would have hung his head had he been a different man. But he was one of them, prouder than any normal wizard, and unafraid of the power that shone within their gazes.

"Perhaps I am only a traitor to my fellows, but not to my heart, my gift, or my vow." He shook his head, lifted his chin, took in the image of all of them together. It was all of them, against him. It might have been possible to stop them, had he the help of one or two who had not slipped and fallen into darkness. But they had all turned from their vows. They were no different than the one who had turned and bowed to the wills of the Dark Lord.

He could delay them, but it wouldn't be long before they broke free.

"You are a fool!" Cried the young one, with his burning blue eyes, tossing his head furiously, "You cannot see what is standing right in front you!"

"I _choose_ not to see what might turn me from breaking the same promises you made, Isaiah." The words were meant to sound scornful, yet they came out pitiful.

"You have turned your back on your brothers, and for that, Jairus, you are cast from this sect." Gregori, the usually passive and very massive human, standing beside the same man who had called him a traitor, shifted and took one accusing step towards him, one hand reaching for a wand, the other for a lethal looking blade. He was the one that Jairus had thought would not have turned. But in truth, the wise giant had been the first to cast away his vows. And many had followed after him. He was one of the oldest and wisest of the brotherhood and after he had turned the ones torn between their vows and vengeance had followed without a thought to question his judgment.

"You do not have that power, Gregori." He murmured, his lips giving into a sardonic smile.

The giant roared in anger and several of the others leapt at him threateningly, their lips trembling with the effort not to cry out as their leader had. They each unsheathed once noble swords, training them on him. The brilliant crystal blades had gone dark with spider-threads and blotches of black. Their noble blades had been corrupted with darkness as they had. Only his remained its hardened magical crystal, unbreakable and clear, the glittering veins within it the color of brilliant gleaming silver. Those fine strands pulsated with power. He gripped its handle, crafted to fit his hand and his hand alone, but he did not draw it from its scabbard.

"I will not fight you, any of you." His voice rang out with firm control. He would not clash swords or wands with them. Not only could he not win, but it would only drive him toward the path that had ruined them all.

"You choose cowardice, as always, Jairus. Just like the Renegade!"

"Funny you should say that," He shook his head, hid a smile, "When you yourselves are more like him than I. You cast aside justice and embrace revenge. None of you can ever again claim this sect as a sanctuary. You are nothing now. You're not human, you never again will be. The light has long since abandoned you. They have never understood our gifts. You demand war with the Dark, even though you all know your hearts have turned as black as Death. You are traitors. _Renegades_. A band of cowards!"

"You are the traitor and the coward!" Shouted Isaiah, and the hate in his eyes burned intensely so. It was sorrow that Jairus felt when he saw such cruelty in those burning blue eyes. He had always been the best of them all. He had wanted nothing but justice and mercy. His youth and that incredible need for more than just black and white had been turned against him. "You are damned for refusing us!"

"No, my boy. If only you could see how truly damned you are for what you have done." He bent his head, opened his arms and bowed gracefully, giving his fellows his last respects. He could feel the spell that silently erupted from Isaiah's wand, a moment before it did. The boy still underestimated his immense powers, and the spell was not as good as it could have been. He casually stepped out of the way of the spell and it hit the wall behind him. The ancient stone absorbed the magic as it had been charmed to do a thousand years before.

"Foolish boy! Do you not remember the traitor's curse?" The man beside Gregori shoved Isaiah back, nearly knocking him to the ground. His eyes were mad and desperate to cause him pain, "You still have a thing or two to learn, whelp!"

"Don't shove me!" Shouted Isaiah, his blue eyes flashing red.

"Do not act unless you have been ordered to!" Gregori snapped to the boy, signaling his companion to stop shouting at the boy.

"Once you leave this ancient place, you can never return." Jairus interrupted, biting back at the annoyance that throbbed in his temple, "Remember my words, Gregori. You will fail against the Dark Lord and once you do, you will not be able to return to this life. You are forever banned from this sacred place, by the decree of the divine!"

"You cannot do this!" Cried the one beside Gregori, as he grasped for his chest and screamed in agony.

"Ha, you believe this fool's words?" Laughed Gregori, even as the rest of the group screamed as if they were burning. They scrambled away from the circle, clutching at their hearts and heads. They soon began to spin around at sickening speeds. They were nothing but blurs when they had reached their highest speed. There was light pops as the weakest of them disappeared. Gregori and Isaiah remained the longest. Isaiah soon followed after his fellows, weakened. Their leader remained only a moment after.

"We will destroy you, in time, Jairus!" Cried the man, roaring angrily, before he fell to his knees and disappeared.

"No." He murmured, staring at the empty space where his once very respected and wise fellow had been moments before, "No, you can't, because I know something you do not, Gregori. I only wish that it did not have to happen this way."

It was time, he thought, his eyes fluttering closed. It was time to stop fate from ruining what could be.

* * *

Sirius Black wondered what in the world was wrong with him. He trembled with fear and anger. The young animagus jerkily gripped the wand that rested in his shaking hand. Grief was fresh on his mind and in his heart. He couldn't believe what he had seen, what he had heard. It was impossible. James had been invincible. He had never considered what he would do if his best friend were to leave him, as he so suddenly had. He had never thought past the fact that they would live on forever, with each other, to grow old and watch each other's families grow and prosper. 

They were supposed to have that. James was supposed to have a life, with Lily. They had deserved to live, more than anyone. The two of them had been so great, so in love. Their hearts were bigger than that of any other person he had ever met.

He wanted revenge for what that little rat had done.

Grasping his wand and taking a deep, but crumpling breath, he poised himself to run after the scurrying little man who was pushing through a crowd of Muggles, fleeing like the coward he was.

"You're not thinking straight, Black."

He spun around, his voice forming a quick spell. It shot from his wand, illuminating the alleyway. A shadow of a man stepped out into the way of the light. His hood hid his face from view, but Sirius could see just a glimmer of sarcastic smile. He gazed at the cloaked man, curiosity and suspicion blooming in his belly.

"Who are you?"

"A friend…" murmured the shadow. There was something secret and ancient in his voice, as if he spoke with the council of a thousand years. It was a deep voice, almost inhuman. Power fluttered in every syllable as his spoke, "You would not remember me."

Sirius was silent. He glanced at the figure, then glanced to the entryway of the alley. He could try and escape, but he doubted this...creature…would let him go. He could try and transform into Padfoot…and yet, there was something holding him back from running off and continuing his pursuit of the rat he had once considered a close friend.

"Yes, the traitor," Murmured the shadowy figure. "He betrayed you and he betrayed your family. It was a cowardly thing to do. I can help."

"What?" He snapped, intrigued, and then he changed his mind, "I don't need help! He killed my friends and he _will _pay!"

"No, no, no." The shadow shook his head, almost angrily, "What is it with the world and revenge these days? It is not the way!"

"What do you know?" He turned to head away and in a moment the man was on him. He hadn't even seen him move and yet he had him, his fists gripping his shirt, lifting him up from the ground.

"You fool!" Snapped the man, rattling him with infallible strength, "I gave my life so that I could see justice wrought upon those who have wronged the innocent. I have never understood revenge and I never shall. When you seek revenge you seek the same fate of those who have wronged you! Do you want the life of that filthy rat? Would you rather see him die, quickly and without suffering, or would you want to see him rot away in the hell of prison, suffering like he deserves?"

Sirius ripped away from the man, "I would like to see him die!"

"Then forgive me for this."

Sirius stared into the dark eyes that were revealed when the hood of the man fell back. There was a jolt of shock before he felt his grips on reality and consciousness slip away.

Jairus felt the weight of the man slump against him. He smiled as he slowly bent down to the ground, laying out the wizard with ease. He sighed and waved his wand over the body. It slowly began to disappear. He had banished the fool to a hidden place where he knew he would be safe. More importantly, where he would not be able to do something stupid.

He stood and lifted his hood over his face, strode out of the alleyway. There was a job to do, he thought, smiling grimly at the squirming little rat who awaited his judgment.

* * *

"Albus! Albus!" 

"Professor McGonagall, how good to see you! I have interesting news." Albus Dumbledore could sense the distress that gripped his transfiguration professor. It set his ease astray and the familiar feeling of distress etched its way onto his mind. It had been a shock when he had found Peter Pettigrew waiting for him in his office, confessing to his crime and admitting to his betrayal. He had thought for a moment that he was dreaming, but it had been real. He had immediately floo-called the Ministry and called off the search for Sirius Black, relieved when they sent a trusty band of aurors to collect Pettigrew and another to find Sirius Black with orders to bring him back to Hogwarts instead of an immediate sentencing to Azkaban. There would be a small suspicion of him for the next few years conducted by the ministry, but he had full faith in Sirius Black.

"Albus, oh, Albus, I am so sorry!" Minerva McGonagall put her hands to her mouth and shook her head. She sat down and cried out, "It's my fault, Albus!"

"Minerva, whatever is the matter, my dear?" He could not fathom what was wrong.

"Oh, Headmaster, we should never have just left him there!"

"You're talking about Harry? Minerva, you're overreacting. No one could have taken him from Privet Drive, no matter how hard they tried. He is safe there, from any kind of negative contact from the outside world." He tried to smile, but he knew something was deeply wrong.

"No, Albus. He's gone." Minerva trembled, "I just checked on him. He's not there and he is not within the house. He's just…gone. I swear it. I've looked everywhere!"

"Oh, heavens…" He fell into his chair and put his face in his hands, "That child was our last hope."

* * *

Jairus felt drained, but accomplished. He was sweating, breathing heavily, something he had not experienced in several years. It was an alien feeling after so many years, but he was not totally unfamiliar to it. The candles had been blow out from the energy that had surged through the room as he awakened the gift within the now sleeping child. 

After this night, Harry Potter's life had been changed forever.


	2. Diagon Alley

I had a wonderful night last night... . I was very happy for no apparent reason at all and my wonderful boyfriend was being extremely sweet over the phone (I still think he wants something), or maybe he was just happy that I was singing and being silly and arrogant, something he hasn't been used to me doing lately...hehe.

Today is family day at my house, so I don't think I'll get Chapter Four done, but who knows, I might just get a spurt of inspiration late at night.. :)

I wrote this chapter a few months ago, but edited most of it a few days ago. I hope you have fun reading it, please review with your thoughts...

THANKS :)

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**Claim of Shadows**  
Chapter One:  
_Diagon Alley_

A raven-haired six-year-old stared up into the strong face of the man whom he knew as Master Jairus, despite the persistent efforts that the youthful man had made to try and coax the boy to simply call him Jairus. There was seriousness about this boy, who quietly listened to every word spoken to him and nodded his head obediently when given orders. Only Jairus knew the true reason for the boy's somber and resolute personality. There hadn't been another like him in a thousand years and more, and there wouldn't be one like him for another millennium.

It grieved the once human man, remembering that had he never awoken the spirits within the boy, Harry Potter would be a very different child, perhaps bright and laughing and loving. Maybe he would have had friends by now. But, though he did sometimes wish he could have taken back his actions, he knew that it had been necessary for the good of the people. It had been his only choice.

Jairus had ripped away the little boy's childhood before he could even talk properly and taken him away to train when the lad barely knew how to walk. A lot of trouble it had caused him as well. That blasted fool of a sorcerer had sent nearly the entire wizarding world on his heels after he had retrieved the boy, forcing them both into seclusion. That hadn't been how he had wanted to raise and train the only remaining of his kind, locked away in some ancient, musty old underground fortress, but even after four or five years, Albus Dumbledore had not given up on his search of the kidnapper and murderer of Harry James Potter.

But Harry needed to see the real world; he needed to see why Jairus was trying to teach him these things. The boy didn't question why he was doing this, but he knew that if there was any hope that Harry could save the world, he needed to have some understanding of the lives that depended upon him and his choices alone. He needed to see what he was saving and he needed to learn why it was that he was saving them.

Not to mention, Jairus needed to pay a visit to a few old friends concerning weaponry, wands, and other supplies for the coming years of the boy's instruction.

"Harry, now, you understand what I ask of you?" He inquired, even though he already knew the answer.

The boy nodded solemnly, looking up with shimmering emerald eyes, darkened with shadows. There was so much power in this young child's gaze, so much intense magic that simply dripped from his very presence.

"Yes, sir," He replied, his voice soft, but the strength of it echoed throughout the room.

Jairus sighed, glanced away. He had often wondered what had kept him apart from all those who had turned from their vows. He had never really been able to give up on that human part of him, that part of his heart that fueled a compassion he so furiously tried to release. There was supposed to be no passion in his line of work, no friendship or love. They had been given this gift simply to protect, not to live their own lives.

He sensed the same compassion in Harry Potter, though the boy hid it very well. He wondered if perhaps it was a trait of his natural gift, or if it was just a strange deformity that the both of them carried.

He crouched down to the youngster's height, smiled, "Remember what I've taught you, Harry."

"I know, Master Jairus," He didn't even blink before his face changed. He was given a slightly lighter shade of hair and dark eyes much like Jairus's own. His skin was given a tone that was a tad darker. Harry was pale as a sheet, so white he was nearly blue, paler even than his own grave skin tone. It would surely make him stand out amongst a crowd.

"Show-off," Jairus smiled, his dark eyes glittering into Harry's. The list he had made of the child's gifts never ceased in extending. As he grew older, more and more talents surfaced and more and more training needed to be added on to help the boy keep his reign on them. Amongst the boy's already several amazing gifts of Occlumency, Legilimency, and all the talents that came along with being one of their kind, he was a Metamorphmagus, an amazing advantage and rare ability to possess. It wasn't a trait that their sect was known to have, so he suspected it was a gift that he had inherited from his rather prominent bloodlines. "Good, now take my hand."

The boy obeyed, slipping his small, slender hand trustingly into Jairus's. He felt a shimmer of a connection with Harry that he had not felt since his brothers had betrayed their oaths. This young lad was his last remaining brother, he thought, and it was his job to teach him what waited beyond the Shadows that they so dutifully hid behind.

Worriedly, he glanced into the eyes of his young apprentice. The child had come into his powers after the entrapment of his brothers by his hand. There was evidence that, added on to the thousands of viziers that already whispered in Harry's subconscious (not to mention his own) the Thirteen betrayers were also there to poison his thoughts, as they could not poison Jairus's. He had spoken to the boy about it. Harry had confessed to the presences in his mind that he could not place with names and faces as he could with the other past members of their society, but not how many or if they meant any harm at all. It was something he would have to look into, soon, with the boy.

"Master Jairus?" The child murmured, "Something bothers you, sir."

"Yes, Harry, it does, but it can wait."

"No, Master Jairus, it's about me, I can see that very clearly."

"Harry, it's rude to invade the minds of others." He shook his head, disappointedly.

"I haven't." Harry told him, quietly, "You aren't very good at hiding certain things, Master Jairus. Your face is very much like an open tome."

"No, lad, I never was good at keeping things to myself." He shook his head again, "There is a time and a place for everything, Harry, and now is not the time for this."

The lad stared up at him with darkened eyes, and nodded passively, but there was a flicker of curiosity there that he quickly suppressed. He was very good at listening and obeying requests and orders.

"Come."

Harry Potter held onto the hand of his guardian and master and wondered why in the world they were doing this. There was no point to it, leaving their hiding place and risking them being caught. The Voices had advised against it, but Jairus, like always, did not listen. For a moment, Harry silenced the Voices, which constantly whispered in his mind. He listened to the utter quiet and found that he did not always need to have them chattering away in his head. He looked at Jairus. This was a Shadow Warrior who had refused to give up on the human part of his self and had not given completely into the Voices, nor would he ever give into them.

He looked up at the man who so gently and carefully held his hand. The Voices were sometimes very harsh and cold, but there were always the few, one or two for every generation it seemed, that spoke to him softly with voices that reminded him of Master Jairus's.

He didn't want the cold, unfeeling harshness. He wanted life, he thought, gazing up at his guardian and mentor. What was life, he wondered. He had never known anything but the cold stone walls of the Fortress.

Was this what he was trying to show him? What life truly was, life beyond their sanctuary?

"Harry, hold onto my robes, and don't let go." Master Jairus told him firmly. Harry did as he was told. He felt a whisper in his mind try and push its way through but he ignored it, using as much strength as he could muster to keep it back. Master Jairus seemed to be smiling to himself, but there was no way to tell, because Harry was clinging to the dark robes of his guardian as tightly as he could. "Well, off we go!"

There was a death-defying whoosh and the sickening feeling of being squished into a tube before Harry could breathe again.

His eyes sprang open when noise flooded his ears. Master Jairus carelessly dusted off his clothing before reaching behind and tugging a hood over his head. He bent down and tugged Harry's own hood over his head, his hand lingering on the lad's shoulder to squeeze it encouragingly.

"Alright, lad, you are to stick close to me. Do _not _leave my side and if you do, contact the Circle _immediately._" Jairus secured the wand and blade beneath his robes and cloak then reached down, offering his hand to his young companion. Harry tentatively took it and braced himself for the wave of noise that would slam down upon him when they stepped out of the alleyway. There were so many people. Harry had rarely been around anyone but Jairus; occasionally his Godfather and the Werewolf visited. Sometimes, a secret friend of Master Jairus's that he wasn't even supposed to know about snuck into the Fortress deep at night.

Harry walked in a daze, confused and amazed by the splendor of everything around him. The people were grand and yet so very normal, he thought, meaningless yet so very precious. He could feel the light and the dark of them, noted their gently beating hearts and pulses. Life poured out from every crack and cranny of this strange place, a marketplace, he noted. Witches and wizards...and so many of them, too! He would have gasped, but his mouth was tightly clamped shut just for that reason. He didn't want to give attention to them.

Master Jairus hadn't told him there would be this many people around.

So many lives, he thought, trying to count them as they pushed through the crowd. There were dozens, hundreds, each burning at their own steady intensity.

The weight of it blew the six year old away. He felt his delight wash away as he thought of the Prophecy and the path that lay out before him. All these lights would suddenly flare and disappear if he failed. All this joy and laughter and merriment would be gone because he had failed.

The weight would have been nearly too much if he had not been holding onto his master. He wanted to choke and cry, but boys didn't cry, especially not Shadow Warriors. He looked at all of these people and suddenly blurted to his master.

"I have to save them all?" He asked, his voice trembling.

"Oh, Harry, no, no." Jairus stopped, bent down to his height, looked at him from beneath his shroud, "Some are not meant to be saved."

"But, but that's not fair…" Harry took a shuddering breath. The image of his master's kind gaze, so understanding, burned through his mind. The voices were slipping through, but he bit back at them, demanding that they leave him be.

"Yet, that is what our job requires, lad. Fairness and justice," He took a deep breath, looked down, "I'll be there to teach you lad."

Harry nodded faithfully and set his jaw. He had no choice on the matter. He had been born into the gift and the vows were bound to his heart. If he broke them, not even Jairus could save him…

He would never know life, he thought, even after he saved all these mortal people…his vows were eternal. He had been holding on to the hope that there would be something more for him, after the prophecy was fulfilled, but they were empty hopes. He was a Shadow Warrior, and in order to protect others, his life would have to be sacrificed.

He called to the Voices, whom he had never before trusted completely with his mind. He could not ignore their advice any longer. He could not and would not do all this on his own. Jairus had told him that in the end he could not help him, he was not meant to be a part of such a fight. Harry would have only the voices in his head to assist him.

**Well lad**>, a deep, rumbling voice called to him, **We are the Council**>

_I know, you've told me before. _He replied, his words echoing across his mind to the slender shadows that waited there.

**We are _your _Council** > The second voice was feminine, but just as strong and forceful as the last **We are here to help… most of us wish you no harm**>

"Lad?"

He turned away from the Voices, looked up to Master Jairus. There was a sad look on his fellow's face, but one of pride as well.

"You are learning very quickly." He smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "You're training has fully begun."

**Will you work your hardest lad?**>

_Yes_, he swore to himself that he would, as he watched a pair of children grasp at their mother's hands, laughing as the sun shone in their golden hair.

He would save them all, that he swore.


	3. Draco

Well, I had this chapter written about a few months ago, but I realized that I wanted to add a lot more to Harry's childhood, so I rewrote it in hopes of bettering the story for the future. I had a lot of fun writing it, for some strange reason…I usually don't like rewriting things, because it's very frustrating, but this one was a joy to write.

Grrggh, my boyfriend just signed into MSN.. that's going to distract me so if this editing seems kind of sloppy, blame it on him :P && now he wants me to make him soooomeethinng on photoshop. GERSH. when i finally have time to upload this, he goes and ruins it.. but he still makes me smile (:

I'm a little worrieeeddd if this is the right way to go with the story, but I can work with it even if it isn't (: Have fun

* * *

**Claim of Shadows  
****Chapter Two: ****Draco**

It wasn't unusual to see children in the streets of Diagon Alley, playing games and eating ice cream as they waited for their parents to finish their hours of shopping. The times of the war had passed years ago and it was peaceful enough that nobody worried about whether or not their unattended children would be snatched away by dark wizards. It wasn't particularly busy today, but it was normal for the streets to be very full with wizards and witches at any time of the year.

However, it _was_ quite out of the ordinary to see a small eight year old child, adorned in a heavy cloak (in the middle of July for that matter), walking through the crowds all by himself. It was _definitely _a rare sight to see a child slipping away from the hustle and bustle of the Wizarding marketplace to enter into the shadowy alleyway that led deep into the streets of Knockturn Alley. Had anyone noticed him, they might have snatched him away from going near such a dangerous place, but nobody seemed to have even seen the lad walking, in plain view, past the dozen shops that lined the street.

While the other children played and licked cool creamy sundaes, Harry Potter was working his way through the muck of a place where dark wizards thrived and spawned. His master had grumbled about him going, but he had no control over him any longer. He was capable of going out on his own, and no matter how hard the elder Shadow Warrior tried, he could not contain him within the Fortress. Jairus regretted ever taking him to Diagon Alley in the first place, because he had given his young companion a connection with the outside world, a link that he would not enjoy being cut off from.

He snuck away during all hours of the day, leaving his sanctuary in search of many things, whether it was a break from training or a magical item he had read about in one of the many books that sat in the Fortress library. Jairus had finally given up on keeping him in the Fortress, and now sent him off on errands for supplies, grudgingly. It just so happened that on this day, the item Jairus needed was a banned substance, which had led him to the darker side of the Wizarding marketplace.

**(You are growing too independent, lad**) A deep rumbling brogue whispered, interrupting his thoughts. He kept walking, appearing as if he had heard nothing, keeping his eyes forward as he looked on through the shadowy, gray streets of Knockturn Alley.

**(Harry, you should listen to Jairus. You are in constant risk of being caught by Dumbledore.)**

_He's stopped looking for me, a long time ago. He's even lessened the search for Master Jairus. And he surely wouldn't recognize me; I look nothing like my original self._

It was true. His straight, brown hair and dull mud-colored eyes looked nothing like his trademark Potter hair and strikingly green gaze. His face was shaped different, it was square and plain.

**(Hush now, you two, and leave the lad be. Let him make his own decisions. In the end, he will be the only one who can make it right. Have faith in the boy! He_ is_ one of our own, you know.)** The whimsical baritone filled his mind and he smiled. Leonardo had always been his favorite adviser, forever sticking up for his actions.

**(You must admit that an eight-year old boy has no place in Knockturn Alley!) **The voice was utterly female, but the strength in her tone was evident.

_Perhaps, but I doubt __anyone within Knockturn Alley __would care._ He shut the voices away from his mind, wishing for peace and quiet. He had been considering only letting them in whilst he was training, but then he would miss their company, and he was already lonely as it is, seeing as he had three busy older men as his only company. It would be better for his health, though. The Council was constantly giving him aching migraines when he listened to them for too long. He had expressed this to Jairus, but his only answer was that it was likely because him having naturally been sworn into his vows, giving him a stronger connection to the voices. You would think he would be used to it, having had them for nearly entire life...

He wondered how different he would have been had his master not awakened his power so early. He might have had friends, a family…but he doubted it. The Dursleys weren't a friendly lot of people, especially when it came to magic. He had observed such behavior on his own. His childhood would have been miserable. When Hogwarts time had come around, he might have had friends, but there would always be something missing. Although he never saw him, it gave him a sense of relief knowing that Sirius Black was alive and well, and Remus along with him. His godfather would be in Azkaban if it weren't for Jairus...

That was a horrifying thought. He wasn't a joking kind of person, but when you paired him with that rowdy animagus he often gave into small chuckles and a rare laugh. The werewolf, Remus, gave him comfort as well, but in a different way. He felt connected to the man, whose life had been ruined so young, as Harry's own had been ruined. They had similar feelings of betrayal and such. He could talk to that man like he could talk to no other person. Their discussions were never arguments because their opinions were nearly always exact, if not similar.

He had gotten close to them, a mistake, and he regretted it. He knew in his heart that it was the wrong way to go. Such things had been 'forbidden' for a reason. The council had clucked their tongues at him for letting them become something important to him, knowing that it would be his downfall. But Harry refused to be like the Council. He had heard numerous times from Jairus about what had happened to his master's generation of warriors. All of them, traitorous renegades…turned to madness in exchange for vengeance.

Their sect was long destroyed because of his predecessors' mistakes…it was because of their foolish actions and their unwillingness to embrace a different kind of view that had dwindled their once ancient and strong brotherhood to two single warriors.

He and Jairus were the only ones that remained. That was not enough to keep the council going. There was no possible way they could keep the balance of justice with only the two of them. It was simply too much, even for their own immense skills and powers.

It took years to find the right wizard who qualified to become a Shadow Warrior, and years more to convince him to make his vow and dedicate his life to the cause. It would be near impossible to produce the amount of warriors needed to complete the circle.

Jairus and he both knew that their race was dying. They would most likely be the last Shadow Warriors to grace this earth for another couple thousand years. Their sect would be absent from the earth, at least until the next natural Shadow Warrior made a Heart Vow, which could not happen because there would be no warrior to awake the power within him. Without another warrior to awake his powers, he would be unable to make such a sacred and difficult vow.

Harry pushed back as the Voices tried to push into his mind, most likely to advise him to stop thinking about such things and focus on the matters at hand. They were right. He shouldn't think of such things, it would only drive him to give up on his vow, which was the last thing he or the rest of the world needed.

"Don't touch _anything_!"

A cold, high pitched voice carried through the street, reaching his strong ears. He glanced to the right and saw a slender and platinum blond boy looking up at his nearly identical father, nodding obediently, his gaze showing that he was frightened of the man who towered over him. They were nearly as pale as he was, but not quite. They were garbed in very fine clothes, obviously very expensive.

"Never mind, Draco, just stay outside. I don't trust you and your sticky fingers." The man didn't say another word, nor did he look at his son with very cold eyes, before he spun on his heel and stormed inside the store marked Borgin and Burke's.

Draco…what an interesting name. Harry stared at the boy for a long moment, a part of his mind screaming at him as he dumbly analyzed the boy's aura. It was a habit of his, reading the auras of wizards and witches, analyzing the power they had and the power they were capable of having. He was about to turn his gaze away, before he suddenly realized what he was looking at.

The young wizard's aura was a burning light, slightly shadowed near the center, yet it was one that shone brighter than those of normal mortals, one that could grow to a much larger light, nearly matching his own already very bright aura.

He felt his breath leave him, his heart stop…It just couldn't be, he thought!

**(Oh my… ) **The Voices had managed to slip through when the shock had hit him…

So he wasn't the only one, he thought, as his eyes went wide. He was gazing at an aura that should not exist while his own also existed, something that had NEVER happened in the entire history of magic.

The boy's silver gaze looked up from the ground and met his. He had a sneer on his face, a look of pure hate. It took Harry aback for a moment, but then he looked deeper. There was pain in his eyes, hidden behind his sharp scowl, and there was power, so deeply hidden that a normal wizard would easily overlook it.

Perhaps there was hope, he thought. He rushed towards the boy, reaching out and grabbing for his slender, white hand. It was manicured, another hint to the fact that he came from a very rich family.

"What do you think you're doing!?" His tone was pompous, but slightly afraid and confused.

**(HARRY! This isn't the way to do this, he must make the choice on his own…)**

_But-but he's **natural**, just as I am! Am I the only that can see that?_

**(No, no, Harry, we can see it just as clearly as you do, we see through your eyes remember? But he deserves to make his own choice…)**

_You always said that the natural Shadow Warriors have no choice. They are born into the gift, and if they never perform the Heart Vow they will slowly slip into the dark, as the shadows in their aura overcome the light. I cannot let this happen to one of our own…__I did not have a choice! Why should he…_

He was angry, angry that they could be so protective of another, rather than himself. What loyalty was this?

But in his heart he knew they were only remaining true to their vows to be fair...and although it was not fair to him, having been forced into this stupid sect, it had been fair to the rest of the world.

**(Harry—)**

He wasn't listening any longer. **  
**

"Draco, would you believe me if I told you that you had a chance to save the entire Wizarding world…?"

The boy looked at him up and down, his cold gray eyes glittering with fear and hate, "You're a blood traitor, aren't you?"

Harry looked deeply into the boy's eyes, letting all the power he held show in his eyes, displaying all the magic he had at his command. He knew that the green in his eyes were glowing with the power, shining brilliantly amongst his pale skin. There was a flash of his true appearance, before the power died.

Horrified, Draco stumbled back, frightened, but the words that came from his mouth were strange, "You're…you're like me!"

"You know then?" It was a surprise, and he wondered how Draco had come to the conclusion, but he didn't ponder on it for more than a moment.

"I thought I was…I thought I was the only one." He nearly smiled, his thin lips twitching, but then he caught himself and began to scowl, "What is wrong with you?"

"There is nothing wrong with _us._" Harry corrected, squeezing the stupid boy's wrists. Couldn't he see what they could do together? He wouldn't be alone... "Help me save the Wizarding world, Draco."

Draco stared at him, his eyes power-hungry, yet the good in him shone through. He had been brainwashed by his father, Harry realized, but there was good in him yet, quite a bit. For a moment Harry thought he might say yes...

"No."

Perhaps not.

"Fine." Harry contemplated forcing him to make his vow, but then he remembered all the times he wished he had not been forced into it…he was torn between being fair and forcing this boy the same way he had been forced. But that would be the same as revenge, and he would be breaking his Vow. He would die if he made this boy make his vow and that would not be good at all… "But be prepared to become used to my visits. I'm determined to change your mind."

The boy sneered, "My father—"

Harry's eyes flashed green and the boy's mouth snapped shut as he got the message. "You're a freak!" He cried, pointing at him, as if trying to draw attention to Harry, but it did not work. It was as if everyone in Knockturn Alley were deaf and blind to both boys.

He disappeared, leaving a huffing, but very contemplative Draco Malfoy behind.

* * *

When he arrived back at the Fortress, bearing a phial full of the toxic substance Master Jairus desired (for what reason, he was unsure), he contemplated informing his companion of his discovery of the second natural Shadow Warrior. He opened his mouth to tell him, but in the end nothing came out. The Council wouldn't blab, he made them swear that they would not. It was difficult for them, because they knew that he should tell Jairus, but after they swore, there was no going back on such a promise. 

Things were going differently than anyone, even Master Jairus, had planned. Harry was determined to do this his own way, with the help of the Voices. He would win this...

And he wasn't so sure he could play by the rules when the time came to fight. There had to be a way to break the vow, without going insane. This thought scared him, it was the first sign that he was going to turn Dark. The Council, luckily, could not hear his thoughts at the time. But there were so many rules that restricted him from doing what he needed to do, if he was ever going to win this war. He couldn't lie... he was not allowed the use of Unforgivables (not that he was going to use Crucio or the Killing Curse, but Imperius Curse might be useful in the future)... there were so many things he could not do, without the threat of breaking his Vow.

And it was supposed to be IMPOSSIBLE that there was another natural shadow warrior during the same millennium as he, and yet Draco Malfoy existed.

His faith in his Vow was fading, and he had only had it for seven years! Something was terribly wrong with him...maybe he shouldn't have been a Shadow Warrior at all?

The thought scared him... and he had the terrifying feeling that it was the truth.

Late in the night, he rubbed the dormant scar upon his forehead, thinking deeply, delving deeply into the minds of the Council members, searching for answers. When he found nothing, he sighed. Sleep called to him, although he did not need any for he was a Shadow Warrior. Slowly he drifted away and in his sleep he dreamed. He saw Draco, power that matched his own, walking along the streets of Diagon Alley, destroying shops with waves of his hands, killing with the snap of his fingers. He saw the Dark Lord as he imagined him, tall and red-eyed and cruel, torturing a slight, faceless girl. Death Eaters storming through houses, murdering mercilessly.

He could not let any of this happen, he had promised...

And he was determined to keep that promise

* * *

The last little bit was written rather quickly, so if it's a little ECHH : well you know why then. i hope you likeeddd it (: i sure did. it ended up better than i had plannedddd. 

anywhoo, reviews please. (: criticism is appreciated.


	4. An Inevitable

DISCLAIMER: harry potter is not mine, that's all i feel like saying right about now.. haha (: you know the drill though

A/N: Haha what is it with people talking to me the MINUTE I start paying attention to this story..? Can't they ignore when I'm writing this, instead of when I'm bored out of my mind && everyone else has abandoned me as well..? Lately it seems people have started liking me a lottttt more than they used to. I should have reconsidered acting like myself. The real me seems to attract UH LOTTT of friends (:

Anywho, ONTO THE STORY…

* * *

**  
Claim of Shadows****  
Chapter Three:  
****Inevitable **

Jairus knew that Harry was hiding things from him, just as he knew that soon, his own work with the boy would become very unsteady, as Harry advanced into more power on October 31st, as he did every year. He already had so much, but he would be getting them every Halloween (the day he had become a Shadow Warrior) until he was seventeen.

The Council was restless; it was obvious something was going to happen. Years and years had passed since he had taken that small, helpless baby and changed him into something so terribly powerful. Had he had made a wrong choice? He wondered deeply as he stood in the shadows, watching the younger warrior silently exercise, kicking and swirling through the air, combating nonexistent opponents.

He was eleven years old and would have been in Hogwarts by now. He knew he had crushed the hopes of the young boy, for he was still a young boy no matter how many generations of wizards lived in his head, when he had informed Harry that it would be too dangerous for him to go to the ancient school, even under a disguise. The boy couldn't hide the power in his eyes any longer, even when using his Metamorph gift. And there was always the chance that Dumbledore would see right through their plan and take the opportunity to ruin everything. He knew that he could not capture either of them, but it was essential to their plans that the world thought Harry Potter dead.

Things had been so much easier when there were fifteen warriors, instead of just two, one still in training and the other unsure of many of the decisions he was making and had made in the past. He often had doubts on whether the way he was teaching Harry (and the way he himself followed his Vow) was the right way to go about this, especially in such dire times.

But that could not be helped, it was too far in the game to change the way he had taught Harry. It would only lead to more trouble if he changed his mind now.

As he stared at Harry, he knew that the boy's aura was darker than it should be. It was a terrifying feeling, imagining such a brilliantly unstoppable creature turning to the dark. It would be the death of the entire world…or perhaps, it would be the salvation.

He was unsure of whether he had been correct in assuming that once a Shadow Warrior broke their vow, they were immediately turned to the Dark. It was perhaps an assumption made by previous Warriors, but maybe it was false…maybe when breaking your vow, you simply went mad, and had the choice of being good or evil.

One case in the past, a warrior, whose name was unknown, broke his vow by killing the man who had murdered his mother, years before he had even become a Shadow Warrior. He had gone mad, yes, but he had not gone evil with revenge as he had seen his own brothers do. The Council merely said that he was sent away to an asylum where he died two eves later of a heart attack. It didn't make sense to Jairus, and he supposed it never would.

Unless…but that was a silly thing to think, pushing their last hope to balance good and evil to the dark, just to see what would happen. His Vow would be broken, and he would be able to do many of the things that he already could not, and he would be, of course, insane, but…would he be evil?

**(Jairus, that**** would not be wise…)**

_But wouldn't it? I can see it already happening, either way. Look at the boy's aura, look at the things he has been doing lately. He is avoiding my gaze, keeping secrets that he made all of you swear not to reveal. I have taught him wrong… it would be my fault if he went Dark. Perhaps instead I would turn Dark and he would just go mad? _

**(You are thinking too deeply into the situation.) **The voice was cool and intelligent, and he knew from experience that it would be very wise to listen to his advice, but at this moment he was too stubborn to even listen.

_I know not how to approach this damned inevitable war with the Dark Lord, but I do know that Harry will be our last hope. I can only help to a certain extent. I keep thinking that I made a mistake, bringing him so early into his powers. It is going to lead to the breaking of his Vow, I simply know it. But wouldn't he die if he broke his vow, instead of going mad? But what if…?_

**(He would not die, Jairus, because the vow you made him take was not a Heart Vow).**

The tall, chocolate haired man suddenly went very still, his mind burning with thoughts. _What?_

**(We've tried to explain to you before, but you never listened long enough for us to tell you. Just like that boy, you shut us from your mind. Silly thing to do, seeing as we are only here to help, not meddle. You forced the boy into the V****ow. T****hat is an Inevitable Vow, which has never before been completed successfully.)**

_Inevitable Vows are impossible! That would only mean that Harry wasn't…_

**(We didn't want to hurt the lad's feelings, he is so very proud of being a natural Shadow Warrior, but in truth…he was never meant to be one at all.)**

_What use is this Council if it does not tell us the things we know? Forget the lad's feelings__ he needs…_

"I already know either way."

Jairus jumped. He had not noticed that the lad had ceased his training and was standing right in front of him. He was tall, as all Shadow Warriors were, with a shock of black hair and stunning emerald colored eyes that seemed to glow in the dim chamber. His skin was of the palest shade, nearly a gray blue color. There were shadows beneath his eyes. He did not sleep, ever. Even Jairus needed some rest, although being a Shadow Warrior gave him the advantage of needing less sleep than a normal witch or wizard. He was still so young, he thought…

"I wasn't even meant for this silly sect." He was glaring at Jairus, but not hatefully or accusingly, but remorsefully, "I have already failed all of you, without even trying."

"Lad—" he reached out to the boy. "Brother—"

"I am not a Shadow Warrior!" He shouted, the anger bubbling in his gaze. It was there that Jairus knew he would break his Vow, if not now, then soon. Inevitable Vows were always broken, and no one really knew what happened to them after they were. "Don't call me brother. I am nothing of significance to any of you."

**(You're oh so very wrong, Harry Potter!) **Leonardo humbly declared, as if he was waving a finger at Harry foolishly, **(You are just as much a Shadow Warrior as Jairus and I, perhaps more so, because your sacrifice was much greater than ours. Your life was given, when it should not have been, but for the Greater Good—)**

"The Greater Good, such a STUPID phrase!" Energy in the air crackled. Jairus stilled where he stood, knowing that even his own power wasn't a match for the youth's before him. He stared into the face of not a Shadow Warrior, but an Inevitable Warrior, something that the Council had only told tales about, but nothing they had ever experienced, not one of them. "Draco Malfoy is your real warrior, Jairus."

It was the first time he had called him simply 'Jairus' but not for the reasons he would have liked.

"I've been teaching him things he shouldn't know, hoping he would make his Vow, but his father has brainwashed him. He should have been taken away as a baby, but I was instead, and it seems that I have ruined everything. I won't be the next great Shadow Warrior. I will only ever be the Inevitable MISTAKE!" He was shouting, his voice echoing off the high ceilings of the Fortress, filling the entire chamber with vibrations.

"Harry—"

"I always wondered why the Council never gave me a different name. You received one, didn't you, Jairus, when you came into your new life with this sect, after your old one went down the drain. You were given the name Jairus, meaning 'he shines' for the way your aura shined so clearly to the Council when they found you weeping over the bodies of your family. You were Edi Besart, a poor dueler from Albania were you not?"

Jairus felt a rush of pain at the thought of his old life, his wife murdered, his beautiful daughter and her infant son slain. The memories had been blocked for a century it seemed, and it all came flooding back at the mention of his old name.

There was no regret in Harry's eyes…they seemed hazy and dark, furious…Mad with grief.

"My family was killed too!" He shouted to the heavens, "And in return I get thrust into this stupid Vow? Well, how about this…" he didn't pull out a wand or anything, he simply stared at Jairus. He could feel the magic wrapping around him as those green eyes pierced him, "I don't break my Vow, but I abandon it."

The air around them seemed to crack. The dim light of the chamber stilled then flashed suddenly, sending them into complete darkness. All Jairus could see were his companion's fiercely glowing eyes. For a moment he thought he saw sadness and remorse there, but it was gone in a mere second when pain took over. There was a thump as the boy, so young, fell to the ground, twitching and shaking, weeping as the pain gripped every nerve of his body like white hot pokers. He shouted at the top of his lungs, not used to being able to feel such intense torture.

He, who had never even flinched after breaking an arm during training, wept as such a feeling that something that had wrapped tightly around his soul was tearing itself off. It was almost like the feeling of tape that you rip of your arm, then comes off with bits of your hair, except ten billion times worse and instead of hair, it was taking bits of your soul along with it. He tried to grab at the little pieces, and somehow, for some reason, he got them back, managed to pull them away from the imaginary tape…

Jairus was standing over him, and the point of his wand was pressed against his throat as he heaved and felt the pain slowly leave him, lingering even after it was gone. His 'Master' whispered words to him, meant for the Council.

Their whispers were faint, but he could hear them and he knew what they were saying. He opened his eyes and lifted his gaze, knowing Jairus would step back when he saw his eyes.

There wasn't anything different about them, except the look behind them. It wasn't evil or hateful, but Harry Potter wasn't entirely there behind those eyes.

Inside he grinned. He could control the madness, he realized, to some extent. That had been his plan, at least…He knew sometimes he would not be able to harness it inside of him, but there was time to deal with that later.

"Kill me!" he laughed manically, hysterically. "Kill me now, Warrior, while I'm down and cannot retaliate!"

"I will not stoop to your level." Jairus seemed to be stony faced, but he knew inside his thoughts and emotions were raging. They had never been close, but there had been a connection, and he knew it would be very hard for the Shadow Warrior to let go of the young lad, whom he had taught for so many years.

The Council's voices were steadily coming back to his mind, but they weren't talking to him, but amongst themselves, whispering excitedly. Jairus could not hear them, or else his plans would have failed miserably. He let a small smile fill his head.

The warrior grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him up sharply. The pain was excruciating, but he ignored it. He felt lighter than he used to, freer than he had ever felt in his entire life.

"Why have you done this? You STUPID boy. Shadow Warrior by birth or by choice or not, you are this world's LAST HOPE at survival! You've turned on that silly promise you're always talking about."

Harry just laughed in his face. He felt quite mad at the moment, but he liked this feeling, it was easier than the one he had felt while under the Vow.

"Ta-ta..." He grinned, reach behind his back where his wand was hidden, and with a CRACK, he had disappeared in a swirl of robes.

**(All hope is lost…)**

"Yes…" Jairus gazed at the empty spot where he had been holding the boy, "I think it is."

**(But you simply must keep trying to find a way, Jairus! You must…**)

"Draco Malfoy will replace Harry." As Jairus closed off the council to his minds and Apparated away, a few of the members smiled...

A melodious-voiced woman giggled, **(That Inevitable Warrior of ours is a clever one.)  
**

* * *

Draco Malfoy was asleep in his dorm, when he woke sharply to a hovering presence over his bed. He jolted, bit his tongue so he would not shout and wake the other children. Gleaming green eyes gazed down at him, smiling. There was something different about them, but he was too tired to put his finger upon it. 

"It worked." It was all the intruder had needed to say, but he continued, "Did you and Severus convince Dumbledore to destroy the stone?"

"It was easy. Snape listened to you, surprisingly." The boy glared at him, "And Dumbledore listens to Snape."

"Good." He smiled, with the Sorcerer's Stone gone, there was less chance that Voldemort could come back earlier than was planned. "And the diary, the horcrux?"

Draco sighed, pulled it from his robe pocket. "I wrote in it the other day. He's sick and twisted, as Mother always said the Dark Lord was. Father still doesn't know I have it."

Harry glared at him, "You're lucky you're immune to possession." Draco stuck his tongue out at him and rolled over, sneering even as he fell to sleep.

For an eleven year old, his plans had gone very, very well so far.

* * *

How I manage to write these things while listening to Lil Wayne amazes me :P 'Okay I'm WHEEZAY Baybay And I Am From The South Where We Call All Our Women BEY BEY Hey Baybay; Hey Baybay ..All day i ask Hey Hey Hey I'm Ballin Like Fade-AY-way three Letter Credit Ay OKAY? …&& my favorite (:Tat-Tat-Tat BoomBoom Tat-Tat BoomBoom Tat-Tat Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Psshhh!' it da remix BABYY. (if you don't like rap sorry for the inconvenience :( ) 

REVIEWS anyone ? (:


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